


Fallen Angels

by CloseToSomethingReal



Series: We Scream, We Shout [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley as Raphael, That's right guys, falling fic, it's a falling fic, reverse au, with a twist cuz I got really bored
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloseToSomethingReal/pseuds/CloseToSomethingReal
Summary: Raphael had known this was coming for a long time. Azra couldn't say he hadn't, either.Yet both had hoped it would never come.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: We Scream, We Shout [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781998
Kudos: 17





	1. Fallen Angels

**Author's Note:**

> yeah okay so this is some hardcore bullshit continuation of "Set The World On Fire" with a chapter 5 I may yet completely remake, but for now I decided screw it, I might as well share this work since I wrote it and it's been sitting in my google docs since April.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We scream, we shout,  
> We are the Fallen Angels

Raphael was taking the children for a walk along the seashore. 

Azra had opted to stay home this time, sand between his toes wasn’t a feeling he enjoyed and he didn’t want to ruin the trip for the angel who so enjoyed these walks. 

They refused to tell him why they liked the walks so much, which made Azra figure that it had something to do with them missing Heaven. Between the sea and the shore and under the bright sky, Azra could understand why it would remind them of the days before creation was finished. The days when Heaven had been a place worth missing. 

He was sitting in the living room, sipping tea and delicately eating a slice of cake. 

He was about as peaceful as he could be, until he realized that he could no longer sense the angel walking down the beach. 

He couldn’t sense anyone on the beach at all. 

He jumped to his feet and took off running to the door. 

Raphael was quite enjoying themselves, walking down the beach. The children were running ahead, playing pirate, splashing in the sea, laughing and shouting and generally doing what children did. Antichrist or not, Adam was a child. 

The angel just continued to walk in silence, their feet in the shore, keeping an eye on Adam and the gang while they played in the sea. 

They hadn’t been walking long when they felt a chill down their spine. 

They froze. 

Looked up at the sky. 

The clouds were swirling above their head. “Adam! Adam, Pepper, Wensleydale and Brian, get back here!” They shouted. They couldn’t lift their feet out of the water. 

Adam whirled around, stared at them in confusion.

“Now!” Raphael insisted. They had stopped moving, it was pointless to try. The cold was lingering on their spine, they were shivering.

Adam was the first to run for them, he made it the fastest. “Adam, I need you to go back to the cottage and get Azra. And stay there, all four of you, until someone comes to get you. I know I’m not one to say this but no questions, no arguing, just do it, it’s important.” They snapped. 

Adam didn’t seem to need convincing. The fear in Raphael’s voice must have been plain. “Pepper, Wensley, Brian, hurry!” He ordered, and they took off towards the cottage. 

The world started to spin around Raphael. Their head felt light and funny. They stumbled. 

Realized what it must be. Glared up at the sky even as dread pooled in their stomach and bile rose in their throat.

“You wanna do it? Go right ahead! Tell Gabriel I’ll see him in  _ Hell!  _ Everyone knows a vow to the Almighty can’t be broken! Not by a  _ fucking  _ angel!” They yelled upwards, and then the world kept spinning faster and faster and they fell to the ground. 

Azra raced down the beach, as fast as his feet would carry him. He ran past Adam and the gang, who stuttered something he didn’t catch but had the idea of anyway. It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong. The angel should have been standing in the shore. 

He couldn’t see anyone standing up ahead, just someone who seemed to have collapsed into the shore. 

He ran down the shore, feet sinking into the sand. “Raphael!” 

They didn’t answer. He reached the angel, they were sprawled out in the water, hair floating in the waves. 

Their eyes were closed tightly, and they weren’t moving at all. “Raphael?” 

Nothing. Azra gently pulled the angel out of the water. They were limp in his arms. 

He couldn’t even tell if they were alive. They didn’t need to breathe, and he couldn’t feel an angelic presence anywhere, never mind radiating from what he was carrying in his arms. “Raphael?” 

They still didn’t stir. 

Azra raced down the beach, threw the door to the cottage open and rushed into the bedroom, laid them out on the bed. 

“Adam?”

The boy appeared in the doorway. “Azra?”

“Would you call Anathema and have her come and get you?” Azra asked, voice high and reedy. 

“Of course, Azra. Is Raphael alright?” 

“I don’t know,” Azra admitted. “I don’t even know what’s happening to them.” 

Adam nodded. “I’ll bring you some tea, too.”

“Phone call first!” 

And then he turned his attention back to Raphael. 

There was a shean across the angel’s forehead, and they still weren’t moving. Azra hadn’t a clue what was happening. He had never seen the angel in this sort of distress before. 

He’d never seen an angel in distress before at all. Besides the time he'd been forced to watch Raphael die, but that had been different. This wasn't the same distress.

The last time angels had truly been in this distress…

“Oh, Satan, no,” Azra whispered, pressing a hand against the angel’s forehead. “No, that can’t be what this is…”

“Azra?” Raphael said weakly, cracking an eye open. 

It was cold. Freezing. They could feel that they were sweating, but they were freezing cold and alone. 

Everything felt… empty. Something was missing, something important was missing. 

"Raphael!" Azra threw his arms around the angel. 

"Y'should go," Raphael said quietly. "don't… don't have to see…"

"Shit. Shit, shit, no, I wasn't supposed to be right are you sure that's what this is?" 

Raphael nodded. "'s cold," they murmured, closed their eyes for a few seconds. 

So far, it didn't hurt. So far, Raphael was just numb and cold and soul-shakingly _ alone  _ and empty and it felt like their chest was caving in, like each breath would be their last. "check on…"

"I'm not leaving," Azra murmured. "I told the Almighty that if she did this you would never be alone through it, never feel unloved through it, and I  _ meant  _ it, ang-" he cut himself off. "I  _ meant  _ it, Raphael. I'm staying here with you. I've been through this before and damn it to  _ Hell  _ I'm going to get your through it." 

Raphael nodded, barely able to focus. Everything was spinning again and they were so lost, so lost and so  _ scared _ , and an itch was starting in their spine and quickly growing to more than an itch, quickly starting to burn and ache and shoot fiery bolts of pain down their back, and without even meaning to they lurched upwards and clung to Azra like a lifeline, fingers balled white in the back of his shirt as white-hot pain burned inside their chest, quickly overtaking the emptiness and cold and leaving them longing to have it back. 

They tried not to make a sound but couldn't hold in their cry of pain as another bout of fire burned down their spine and this time it stayed, where it felt like it was charring their bones black and melting away their very being. 

They let out a strangled sob, muffled in Azra’s shoulder. Azra held on tighter, whispered soothing words Raphael couldn’t hear through the focus of the pain twisting into them where their heart should have been, sharp and hot and worse than anything they had ever felt before. They let out another choked cry, felt something that wasn’t a tear drip down their cheek. “Azra-”

“I know. I’ve got you, you’re not alone. I swear to you, you’re not alone and I’m never going to leave you. We can get through this, together,” he whispered. 

Raphael bit into his shoulder to stop from screaming, it felt like they were being torn apart from the inside. Azra didn’t say anything about it, even though either the blood was coming out their mouth, too, or they had broken skin. 

“It will be over soon, dear, soon the worst of it will be behind you…” 

Raphael wasn’t sure how much of a blessing that would be. They did their best to stay quiet, even as pain tore through them as something was torn out of their chest, leaving them gaping and hollow and aching and frightfully alone. 

The only comfort they took was that Gabriel was suffering, too.

Slowly, when it felt like they could, they pried their sharp teeth out of Azra’s shoulder. Instead, they nuzzled in against his neck, desperate to be as close to him as they could, desperate for any sense of comfort that could break through the emptiness. 

“It’s alright, love, it’s going to be alright…” Azra murmured, holding them close to him and swaying a little where he sat. 

“Azra? I brought the tea and- oh,  _ Hell _ I can  _ sense _ them.  _ That’s _ what’s happening.” 

“Just leave it on the table, Adam, and-”

“I’m going. I didn’t mean to intrude in the first place,” Adam said quietly, and stepped out the door. “Just… look after them. That doesn’t seem pleasant.”

“I would know, firsthand,” Azra reminded him. “Been a few thousand years, but… you don’t forget.”

Adam didn’t say anything else, and Raphael only squeaked and tensed up, something was  _ burning _ , it was spreading from their toes up, quickly climbing their legs and settling into the pit in their chest even as it moved down to their fingertips. They bit into their knuckles, hoping to quiet themselves and only managed to make themselves bleed.

They did more than squeak when it reached their wings. Refused to summon them to the material plain, even though it might hurt less, they didn’t want to see what was happening to them. They didn’t want to have the chance to watch the blue feathers burn away. 

And just when it seemed everything had gotten as bad as it could, the pain redoubled. 

They shrieked and then everything went black. 

“Wake up, Raphael.” Someone was shaking their shoulder. 

They barely recognized the voice, opened their eyes and nearly jumped out of their skin to see that it was the Prince of Hell shaking their shoulder and talking to them. 

An all-consuming  _ emptiness _ filled their chest, none of the fire from earlier, just a cold aching chill, an open pit that ached in a way Raphael hadn’t even known they could hurt. 

They were alone. 

_ Forsaken.  _ The pain of it was unbearable, they let the Prince of Hell sit them up and clung to their knees, fighting back tears as the emptiness burned inside of them. 

“You can cry,” Beelzebub said, stunningly sympathetic. “I’ve summoned Azra to come and get you, and haven’t told your brother of your arrival. He’ll find out zoon enough.”

“Why-” Raphael didn’t even make it through the word before their voice choked out and they broke into heartbroken sobs. 

They had known the risks, but knowing the risks couldn’t have prepared them for the actuality of Falling, the realization that God and Heaven above had officially forsaken them.

“Am I not being terrible? Every demon remembers what it’s like to Fall. It’s unnezessary for me to do anything to make you feel  _ worze. _ You’re already as miserable as you can be. It’s not mercy, it’s  _ pity _ ,” Beelzebub assured them. “Truzt me, Hell doesn’t do mercy. You got as much of it az you’ll see from uz when I didn’t call your brother to be here. Now, let’s get you standing up, no point in sitting wallowing in self-pity on the floor in Hell. It won’t get anything done.”

It almost felt as though ze had a checklist to get through with every member of the Fallen. Sit up, debrief, confirm that exactly what you thought had happened had indeed happened.

Ze reached down and pulled the former archangel off the ground. They were shaky, trembled where they stood, could barely stay upright. Beelzebub huffed and guided them over to a wall they could lean against. “I’ll have Azra take a look at your wingz later, don’t feel like going through that right now. There’s enough pain in this room without finding out if they’ll heal right now. You’ll get an assignment if Hell ever decides to try to pull Azra back in, until then I can’t see uz messing much with you, and, yeah, that’z all from me. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you eventually.”

“It’s  _ cold,” _ Raphael said quietly, teeth chattering. 

“You’ll get used to it,” the Prince of Hell promised. “All of us do.” 

Beelzebub sighed. “And if you muzt know, I saved you becauze even a demon understandz debt. You saved me before the Fall. I wouldn’t have made it out of the sulphur if you hadn’t healed me in Heaven.”

And with that, ze left the room. 

Raphael collapsed back to the floor, buried their face in their hands, and cried. 

Azra didn’t take long to arrive, burst into the room and wrapped Raphael up in his arms, holding them close. He was warmer than the air around them and the pit in their chest, but not by much. 

“We can go?” He checked with Beelzebub, but not in a tone that really sounded like asking. 

The Prince of Hell nodded. “Just get out of here before people see you, Azra. And if you can do it, before they see Raphael, too.”

Azra pulled away just a little to look the former archangel in the eyes, eyes that hadn’t changed a bit, eyes filled to the brim with bloody tears. “Can you stand?”

“They can stand, but I doubt they’ll walk, since I left for not two minutez and they’re back on the ground. Bezt to carry them out, I don’t have time for stumbling,” Beelzebub said. 

Azra didn’t comment on zer tone of voice, probably because he knew it wasn’t worth it. “Alright, hang on tight, we’re going to get you home and cleaned up and everything is going to be-”

“Don’t say that,” Raphael whispered. “It doesn’t feel like  _ anything _ is alright.” 

Azra seemed to understand that. “Well then, how about we go home and work on making things a little bit better?” 

Raphael didn’t answer. Azra lifted them off the ground. Their formerly white jeans and blazer were smeared with dirt and soot and ash, their pink shirt covered in blood. 

“Ze didn’t hurt you, did ze?” He whispered, gaze flashing up to Beelzebub. 

The Prince of Hell sighed. “What would be the point in me hurting them? Thingz down here can get bad, but unless I have  _ monthz _ to work on it I can’t make it worze than the Fall. You should be thanking me, conzidering I kept them safe and hidden away from the general public. The other demonz all know that’z the angel who tempted you away from Hell, I’m sure they would have loved to take a piece of them if they had chanze, just to see what made it worth it for you. Raphael is in no state to defend themzelvez, so I did.” 

“You’re right, Beelzebub. Should I say thank you?” Azra asked with a sigh. “I’m being serious,” he promised when Beelzebub shot him a glare.

“Don’t bother, just get out of here. Keep an eye on them, there’z no telling who gets to them first if they wind up back here. And I left checking on their wingz for you.”

Azra nodded and stepped out the door. 

Raphael just closed their eyes and prayed this would all be over soon. 

It never even occurred to them that there was no one left to listen to their prayers.

Raphael was asleep by the time they got home to the cottage. It didn’t seem to be a peaceful sleep, but Azra had a feeling that sleep would be preferable for them for the near future. 

He laid them out in their shared bed, tucked the blankets tightly around them. 

They would be  _ oh so _ cold. He knew that too well. Hell wasn’t as hot as people seemed to want it to be. 

He went and fetched a cloth soaked in warm water, worked on gently scrubbing the blood off their face. They would need to wake up and get properly cleaned up, and that wasn’t the only reason he needed them to wake. 

First, he needed to check in with them. He had a good guess to what they would be going through, but he had no idea  _ how  _ they would go through it. Until he knew that, he had no idea what to say to them, what to do, what to offer them. 

Some demons had been angry, some terribly sad, some had just seemed numb. A lot were all of the above. He wondered what Raphael would be.

Second, he would like to get them all cleaned up, fed, watered and into some warm clothes. It wouldn’t make them feel any better, but it might help something. 

Third, since he supposed it was a kindness that Beelzebub hadn’t insisted on checking zemself, he needed to convince the former angel to let him have a look at their wings. If the damage was minor, they could be allowed to heal on their own and he could assure Raphael that at the very least that would be fine, that their wings would heal and they would fly again, but if something was  _ seriously _ wrong then…

Then Azra would have to decide what to do when that happened. 

He knew, deep down, that most demons didn’t have wings anymore. He knew there was a reason. But he wasn’t going to give up hope, after all, Raphael had three times the odds of most demons on one pair being repairable. 

But for now, he wouldn’t begrudge them sleep. They had earned a rest, for as long as they liked. 

What else could he do?

He laid down next to Raphael and waited for them to stir.

Raphael’s eyelashes were stuck together by blood and he had to fight to get his eyes open. 

By the time he had managed to, he was no longer sure that it had been worth the trouble. 

Everything was cold. The hollow pit in his chest hadn’t gone away, the feeling where something had been ripped from him, something he had relied on. Something that he had always needed and had no idea what he was supposed to do now that it was gone. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Raphael didn’t bother to answer. “I know, it’s a stupid question, but I felt I had to ask, dearest. Do you know where we are?”

Raphael nodded. Azra smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Good. Do you… do you remember what happened?” 

The sour look on Raphael’s face must have been all the answer Azra needed. “I’m so sorry to ask, love, I-” 

“Stop tiptoeing. What’s done is done,” Raphael sighed and made to stand up, get up and try to move on, and Azra grabbed his wrist. 

“You should stay here, dearest,” Azra said gently. “You need rest, my dear, and-”

“I think I should know what I need, Azra,” Raphael said, glaring at him. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

Azra sighed. So it was going to be angry, at least for now. “Alright, that’s alright then, dear. Can I make you some tea? Something to eat? You’re a little bit… covered in blood, you may want to take a bath, but really it’s up to you.”

That seemed to give Raphael pause. He swung his legs back up onto the bed. “Some tea might be nice,” he admitted, voice almost too soft to hear. 

Azra nodded. “I’ll be back in two shakes of the lambs tail, dear.” 

Raphael nodded. 

By the time Azra returned, he seemed to have settled back into the covers. “‘M sorry for snapping,” he murmured. 

“You haven’t a thing to apologize for, a- Raphael.” 

Azra took a moment’s pause. “Can I still call you that? Or would you prefer something else?”

“She took everything else from me, I’ll be dead before I let Her take my  _ name _ , too. It’s the one thing She can’t forcibly take away, I have to give it up, and I’m not giving her  _ anything, _ ” Raphael said softly. “So please do.”

Azra nodded. “Are you comfortable?” He asked, handed the former angel the tea. “As comfortable as you can be? Believe me, I know it hurts, and I know it’s a hard shock, and I know you’re probably so far from okay right now that you don’t remember what okay feels like. But are you  _ comfortable, _ because if you’re not, that’s something I can do something about and I can’t stand being useless to you right now…”

“It’s cold,” Raphael admitted softly. “So cold.”

Azra nodded. “It’s… it’s where  _ love _ used to be,” he admitted. “A strong, unending love that you never thought would leave. I’m sorry, Raphael, but the cold never goes away, you just get used to it.”

Raphael nodded. 

“I might be able to warm you up a little, though.” He held his arms open, inviting the former angel to curl up in his embrace. 

It only took a few seconds for them to set the tea to the side and do just that. Azra held him as tightly and as close as he could as he shivered. 

“Dear? I’m going to do everything to get you through this, but- and this is no reason for you to feel guilty- you must understand that no one did that after the first demons Fell. I don’t tell you that to make you feel badly about it, I tell you that because I truly don’t know what helps and what doesn’t. I want you to tell me if something I’m doing doesn’t help you. I want you to tell me if whatever I’m doing is disturbing you, if it’s upsetting you or Hell, if it’s pissing you off. All I want to do is help, so please tell me if something I’m doing isn’t helping.”

Raphael nodded. 

“But there are two things we need to do. One is at your leisure, the other, as soon as you can stand it.”

Raphael remained silent, allowing for him to continue. 

“The first one is that we should get you cleaned up and into some warmer clothes, but that can wait as long as you want it to.”

Raphael nodded. “And the one that can’t wait?”

“Is unfortunately something you’re not going to want to let me do. It doesn’t need to be done right now, but it should be done soon.”

“Just tell me what it is.”

“I need to have a look at your wings.”

Raphael shook his head instantly. “I’m not bringing them out. I don’t want to know.”

Azra waited before he answered. “I understand that. And like I said, it doesn’t have to be done right now. But Raphael, for the very reason why you don’t want to see them, I need to check on them. It’s what Beelzebub meant.”

“Why.”

Azra took a deep breath. “As you know, my wings made it out alright,” he began.

Raphael nodded. 

“That’s not often the case,” Azra admitted. “Many of the demon’s wings were too badly damaged in the Fall to ever heal. The reason why someone needs to have a look at yours is because charred feathers and even scorched flesh can wait a bit, can mostly be left to heal on its own, but if there’s an open wound, or something is seriously wrong with them, there’s a chance they start to fester.”

“And what do you do if they are? Too badly damaged to heal? At risk of festering?”

Azra sighed. “It’s nothing I do. It’s- it’s not as bad as you might think, Raphael, no one has to cut them off or anything like that, Surprisingly, I’ve been told it doesn’t even hurt. You can simply… banish them. And they don’t come back.”

“I can’t. Not right now.” 

Azra let the matter drop for the time being. There was a window where Raphael would likely be fine, a window where he could let Raphael adjust the best he could before he had to insist. “How do you feel about getting yourself cleaned up then?” He asked. “Or we can just sit here, it’s up to you.”

Raphael considered for a long time. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Azra agreed. “Do you think you can stand, or would you like me to carry you there?”   
“I’m not sure I could walk,” Raphael admitted. 

"That's alright. I can bring you there, you just relax," Azra said. Gently lifted Raphael off the bed, held them tightly in his arms. He kept a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, the bathroom wasn't often known for being warm. 

Placed Raphael on the counter, all bundled up in the blankets. "Bath? Shower involves standing and you seem unsteady." 

Raphael just nodded. 

"You know, I won't be surprised when we get the invitation to Shadwell and Madame Tracy's wedding. I was just speaking with Anathema about it and-" 

He turned to look at Raphael. "Is this helping or making it worse?"

Raphael took a moment to reply. "Helping. I- I don't want to talk about  _ it  _ yet I don't want to think about it but it's all I can think of-" 

"We don't have to talk about it until you're ready." Azra crouched down and plugged the tub, ran the water as hot as his skin would allow it. It wouldn't warm the former angel like he doubtlessly hoped it would, but it was something. "I can do distractions." 

He added some bubbles and jasmine oil, the scent was meant to be relaxing and he figured Raphael could use all the relaxing he could get right now. "Of course, I don't really think that Anathema should be gossiping about weddings, given the  _ looks  _ she and Newton keep sharing."

"Two weddings. Let's just hope they don't remember when I jokingly offered to officiate… I don't think that would see them joined in the same sort of matrimony they're expecting anymore."

"Wouldn't that make it all the funnier? You and I could do it together and join them in  _ un _ holy matrimony." 

Azra could tell it was too soon for that joke the moment it left his lips. "I'm sorry, Raphael. That was too far, I hear it now.” 

“Remind me of that joke when… if this ever feels like something I can laugh at,” Raphael murmured. Azra nodded. 

“Of course, dear.”

Azra went back to tending to the bath, making sure it stayed the right temperature, that the bubbles were fluffy enough. 

Glanced back at Raphael to see him with his face buried in his hands. Azra was on his feet in an instant, over at his side. “Is there something I can do to help, dear?” 

Raphael sniffled and shook his head. 

“What is it, dear?” 

“It’s not really  _ fair _ of me, is it? Sitting here being miserable and acting like the worst thing has happened when- when- when it just means I’m like  _ you.  _ And you're  _ far from  _ the worst thing. You're the best thing that ever has been or will be in my life."

Azra smiled sadly. “I don’t need you to be fair to me right now, Raphael. It’s sweet that you’re thinking of my feelings but honest, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I understand that you’re hurting, and honestly, when it happened, it was the worst thing that could have happened to me, as well.”

Raphael sniffled again. “You’re not hurting me, darling. Even if you had said something that might have hurt me, I’m well aware that you’re in pain and you might lash out at me, or say something without thinking.”

“I want- no, I  _ need _ you to tell me if I do,” Raphael murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you, even by accident.” 

“And I will, if that’s what you want. Now, let’s get you in the tub.” 


	2. Mary-Go-Round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep in silence
> 
> Fantasised violence
> 
> The self doubt haunting me
> 
> Stripped of my legacy 
> 
> Mary-Go-Round, Sparkles* (Yes, that really is the artist's name. With the asterix)

Azra opted to use a quick miracle and make it so that particular pantsuit wasn’t likely to ever be found again, it smelled of fire and sulfur and was streaked with dirt and ash and Azra was reasonably sure it would not be coming clean again, and if it did, the smell would never come out of it. 

Besides, he had a feeling Raphael was going to be wanting something a little bit warmer from now on. 

Then he had placed the former angel in the tub of hot water. 

Raphael settled neck-deep into the water, gave him a look. “You know when I asked if you would come with me, I didn’t mean that you should sit on the floor and watch.” 

Azra laughed, and was in the tub a few minutes later. 

They were silent for a time, until Raphael broke the silence. “How do you accept it?” 

“Accept what, dear?”

“That- that we aren’t  _ good enough.” _

Azra sighed, kissed his red hair. “I don’t think it means we aren’t good enough at all, dear. I think it just means we’re good in a different way. Even though she wanted us to switch, the Almighty didn’t seem to want the world destroyed. We did what was meant to happen, and if you consider that to be good, then you are good enough.”

“Then why throw us away?”

“That’s what many demons have been trying to figure out for the last six thousand years. It doesn’t bear thinking about. It’s not worth it to try and figure out the intricacies of the Almighty’s thought process when you have to live with the consequences whether you understand or not.”

Raphael nodded. "So in six thousand years you haven't come up with the answer."

"I'm afraid not. There's what Heaven and Hell tell us, and there's what is actually true. And somewhere in between is whatever you choose to believe that makes you feel better in the end. Sometimes life is just about survival, and you have to do what it takes to manage to make it through. And if that involves telling yourself a false reason why you Fell, that's what it takes."

Raphael didn't answer. Azra squeezed his shoulders. "I know you can't possibly believe me right now, but things will get better. I'm not saying they'll be good any time soon, but they will get better." 

Raphael nodded again. Dunked his head entirely under the surface, sat up with water streaming off his nose and chin. "I'm all sticky." 

"You were crying blood." 

"I know." 

Azra sighed and reached out to him. "Will you let me help you get cleaned up? Or do you want to do it yourself? It makes sense if you're feeling sensitive and would rather do it yourself."

Raphael sighed. "Could you give me a cloth with some soap? I'll get the blood off my face, you can work on getting it out of my hair." 

"You always give me my favourite job, dear," Azra laughed, handing Raphael a face cloth and grabbing the shampoo off the side of the tub. 

"Only because it's a pain for me to do every time," Raphael murmured, scrubbed his face with the cloth. Blood smeared and rubbed across their cheeks, but eventually began sleuthing off. 

Azra gently scrubbed orange-scented shampoo into Raphael's red hair, massaging his scalp with his fingers. 

There were spots that were matted with blood, he had to work to scrub it out, but eventually it seemed the blood washed out of his hair. 

It didn’t take much longer than that for Raphael to decide that it was time to get out of the bath, even though Azra had hoped he’d take the chance to relax once inside. 

Still, the demon didn’t say anything about it. He wasn’t going to try to force Raphael into anything right now. “Are you up for eating something, dear? Or drinking some tea? I won’t give you wine, even if you ask me for it, and don’t think that means scotch is on the table.”

Raphael nodded, wrung his hair out over the water before grabbing a fluffy white towel. “I think we both know I don’t want anything to eat, Azra.” 

The demon smiled sadly up at him. “One can hope. Some chocolate or something sweet could help you feel-”

“What did I tell you about making me feel better, Azra?” 

Raphael’s voice had a snappish tone in it, but Azra wasn’t offended. He dropped the subject immediately. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed. How about some warm clothes then? Not to make you feel better, just because I know you’re freezing and it might help a little bit.”

Raphael nodded. “I suppose I could do with something warmer.”

“Any preferences on what? I know I told you ages ago that you couldn’t steal my coat on me, but I don’t think I would argue with giving it to you today,” Azra offered. 

Raphael frowned. “Any reason why I can’t whip them up?” He asked. “Why have you got to do it? I know what I like to wear better than you do.”

Azra balked at that, stammered a little bit before managing a coherent answer. “It- it feels different, to do a miracle like this. You absolutely can do it if you’re up to it, I’m just trying to keep the shocks to a minimum,” he admitted. “I don’t know if you want me to, but I guess I’m trying to protect you.” 

Raphael sighed. “Suppose I can’t fault you for that. I’ll leave it for you to do, for now. I’d just like something warm.”

He was standing just outside the tub, wrapped in the white towel and already shivering. Azra snapped his fingers and a pair of fuzzy, warm pyjama pants, and a pullover sweater appeared on the counter, and a pair of warm slippers for Raphael’s feet. “I’ll get you something different if we go out, but that will do for now.”

Raphael nodded, got dressed as Azra climbed out and drained the tub. 

Azra smiled, a little sadly, placed his leather coat on Raphael’s shoulders before giving him a hug. “Tea?” He asked, snapping his fingers and finding himself dressed. “Or coffee or cocoa, I suppose. I could even make you one of those oversweet mochas you like so much.”

“I think I could go for that,” Raphael allowed, biting at his lip. "I'm being such a-"

"Shh, I don't want you to finish that, dear. I'm glad to look after you if that's what you need right now, don't you dare feel badly about it. I just want you as comfortable as you can be." 

Raphael was asleep on the couch, coffee set to the side, when Azra looked over at him from the book he was reading out loud. He looked a little more peaceful than his last sleep, and Azra decided he shouldn't worry about him for the time being. 

He decided he could do with something to eat, wound up ordering in, as he found that he got nervous about the former Archangel as soon as he was out of Azra's sights. 

He couldn't help but feel that despite how wrung out and tense everything was, everything was still too calm. 

Which meant a storm was going to break, soon enough. He would be more concerned if it didn't. 

The longer it brewed, the bigger he reckoned it would be. 

But for now, he ate his takeout sushi with a fork, which made him feel like he had never been more of a heathen than in that moment, but Raphael had walked off with all the chopsticks again. Lord knew what he did with them. 

Kept a careful eye on the sleeping form on the couch. 

Raphael didn't stir. Azra eventually left to put away the dishes, to pick another book. 

By the time he got back, Raphael was nowhere to be seen. 

"Dearest? Where did you go?" He called, looking around the living room. He scooped up the blankets, wondering if Raphael had turned into a snake, but no snake plopped out of the blankets, so he doubted that was the case. 

“Raphael?” 

Where would the former Archangel go? He was surprised that Raphael had even managed to stand at all, never mind go somewhere that Azra didn’t know where to find him.

And it wasn’t like he could use his ability to sense angels to help him find Raphael anymore. 

He sighed, stepped out the door. Raphael had his coat, the chill nipped at his arms. 

He didn’t immediately spot the newly Fallen demon. He had to scour his gaze across the beach several times until he finally noticed a flash of red, sitting on an outcropping of stones that broke way into the sea. 

How the Hell had Raphael made it that far in the time it took him to clean a plate and pick a book? 

And did Raphael want to be disturbed? It occured to Azra as he walked towards him that Raphael might not want to have people around right now. That Raphael might have left the cottage because Azra was smothering him, and he needed a chance to breathe. 

Azra opted to bring his book out onto the front porch and wait for Raphael to come to him. 

That way, Raphael wouldn’t be disturbed if he didn’t want to be. He could sit, staring out at the grey waves of the roiling sea for as long as he pleased, and Azra would read his book, seated on the steps of the porch, and wait for him. 

It grew chilly, quite rapidly, and Azra went inside to fetch a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. When he returned, Raphael had yet to move. 

Azra wondered if he should be worried. Forced himself not to go out and check on the demon sitting on the rocks. Raphael wouldn’t appreciate it if he wanted his privacy. 

It grew too dark for reading, Azra decided it was time to go check on Raphael, even just for a minute. He went and grabbed a hot cup of tea, and walked onto the outcropping of rocks. 

“You can stay out here as long as you like, dear, I just don’t want you catching a chill,” he murmured, wrapping the blanket he’d been using around Raphael’s shoulders. He handed the demon the cup of tea. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but it’s late and I’m going to go inside, alright?” 

“You were outside?” 

Azra knew it would be ridiculous to be offended. Raphael had far too much on his mind to have noticed that Azra was watching after him from the porch. “I was waiting for you by the door,” he admitted softly. “But I didn’t want to bother you, you looked like you could use some peace and quiet.”

Raphael nodded. Sat in silence for long enough that Azra almost left, thinking Raphael was content to sit for the rest of the night, in peace on the rocks. 

“Would you check?” Raphael asked suddenly. “But… don’t tell me. Not if you don’t have to.”

“You mean your wings.”

Raphael nodded. 

“I can do that. Right now, or in the morning?” 

Raphael answered by getting to his feet and plucking his way back down the rocks and onto the shore. Azra had no choice but to follow.

Raphael didn't stop, walking with his bare feet in the shore even though the water must have been near freezing and he couldn't imagine how cold Raphael's toes must have been.

"Are you sure you want me to look right now?" 

"No, but I don't think I'm ever going to be sure, Azra. Maybe I would rather just get it over with." 

Azra supposed he couldn't argue with that. He ushered Raphael back inside, had him lay on the bed, down on his stomach, face turned to the side and cradled in his arms. 

"Wings out, when you're ready, dearest." 

Raphael took a deep breath, and spread his wings open. 

He kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to know, pretended he didn't hear Azra's horrified gasp. 

Felt fingers brush singed feathers, couldn't help but flinch as pain flashed down his wing and up his spine. 

"I'm sorry, love, I'm so sorry, I'll be as careful as I can be," Azra promised, ran a hand gently through his long hair. "Unfortunately you have a lot of feathers for me to go through." 

His fingers brushed the joints of his topmost pair of wings, Raphael's shoulders spasmed with the pain. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, love… oh, Satan…" 

Raphael couldn't take the anxiousness of waiting anymore. "Will I- will I be able to fly again?" He asked, voice trembling. 

"I can't tell yet."

Azra picked through feathers and gently inspected bones and joints and what stung enough that Raphael assumed they were burns for what seemed like hours. The former angel fought to stay still, continued to keep his eyes squeezed shut. 

Finally, Azra placed a gentle hand on the middle of his back, ran his fingers lightly down Raphael's spine. "There's nothing so bad it has to be taken care of this instant. And… you will fly. Had better odds than most, with three sets of wings. But when I say better…" 

"How many?" Raphael asked, completely forgetting what he had said about not wanting to know.

"I would say that two are damaged beyond repair. It will take time to get used to flying with just the one set, but I know you can do it, love. We can get started once new feathers grow in." 

"Black feathers."

"Not forcibly," Azra promised. "Dark, yes, but not forcibly black. Could get navy, even, then it wouldn't be much of a change at all."

"How do I get rid of the broken ones?" 

Azra bit his lip, ran a hand through Raphael's hair. "You don't have to do that just yet." 

"No sense dwelling in the past. If they're not going to heal, they're no use to me. They’ll just get worse, and make me feel worse, and take away the focus on healing the ones that will get better." 

Azra sighed. "The others said they just willed them away. Folded them as though to unsummon them, and then they were gone."

"Which ones?" 

"Raphael, you really don't have to do this right now-"

"Which ones, Azra?" 

"The top and bottom pair, dear. The middle one will heal. But you don’t have to take my word for it, you can try to let them heal, I might be wrong," Azra said gently. 

“I trust you.” Raphael sat up, still didn’t look at the damaged feathers, folded the middle pair away before frowning. 

_ Just send them away.  _

He took a deep breath and folded the other two away as well. 

He couldn’t feel them settled against his back anymore.

Couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as some of the pain faded. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that for now. I’ll help you clean up your wings some other time, okay?” Azra said gently. “You should get some sleep, love.” 

Raphael nodded, sat up and pulled his arms around Azra. “Thank you,” he murmured, face pressed against Azra’s chest. “I… I don’t know how you got through this alone.”

“Neither do I, love. But I’m glad you don’t have to,” Azra assured him. “Now get some sleep, Raphael. You look exhausted, you could use some sleep.” 

Raphael nodded, but didn’t seem like he was going to move. With a heavy sigh, Azra laid down against the pillow, let Raphael settle into the bed, as close as he could possibly be to Azra. 

“Sorry,” he whispered into the demon’s chest. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

Azra just smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Then you won’t be. Not for a second.” 

True to his word, Azra was still there when Raphael awoke, strong arms wrapped tightly around the former angel. 

Raphael squirmed a little, leaned his head up and gave him a kiss. “You should go out.” 

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to do something stupid, and you don’t need to be here for it, Azra. And I’ve imposed on you enough in the last two days.”

“Imposed?” Azra replied in disbelief, hoisting Raphael off the mattress to sit up on his chest. “You haven’t imposed on me at all, dear. And if you’re insisting on doing something stupid, I would like to be here where I can look after you.” 

“You’re going to go, or I'm going to drive off in the Bentley before you can stop me, whether I have to do it in pyjamas or not.”

Raphael stared down at him, scanning his blue eyes. 

Azra sighed. “Are you sure? I’ll go if you really want me to, but I want to make sure you’re sure about this. I don’t want you getting hurt, love.”

Raphael took a deep breath. “I have to do it myself,” he said. “I don’t want to do it myself, but I have to do it myself. You should go out for brunch, go bookshopping or something, I’ll be done by supper. I’ll meet you at the Ritz for seven o'clock, and we can drive back together." 

"Are you up for the drive?" 

"Guess you'll find out at seven!" 

"Raphael, before you go you should get sorted in some warmer clothes. You'll freeze out there dressed like you normally do, dear." 

Raphael sighed. "I guess you're right. It is still cold." 

"You can take my coat again, if you like. With your jeans and a jumper of some kind you should be warm enough. Just wear proper shoes." 

"I thought you told me you wouldn't be giving me that coat?" 

"Well, you do like it so much," Azra laughed. "And I assure you that it's very warm." 

Raphael nodded. "It is indeed. Now, I'll see you tonight for dinner, alright? I'm sorry I have to do this alone."

"Just come back to me in one piece."

"No promises."


	3. The (After) Life of the Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nose runs ruby red, death's seen a double bed
> 
> Singing songs that could only catch the ear of the desperate  
> \- The (After) Life of the Party, Fall Out Boy

Azra left shortly thereafter, and Raphael got out of bed, listened to the demon's advice and put on a fuzzy pink jumper along with his typical jeans, made a cup of coffee, and headed out the door, Azra's too-big leather jacket flapping at his heels as he walked to the Bentley.

He had a couple of stops to make. 

The first one took him to a tall building, with two sets of escalators just inside the door. 

He had only ever been up one side. 

He took a deep breath, and headed to the left. 

Stepping on felt the same, with the same flip in his stomach as he became acutely aware that he wasn't on Earth anymore. 

Things grew darker, the walls got rough and damp. Eventually, the escalator ended and Raphael stepped out onto a dark stone floor. 

He shivered. It was always so damned cold down here. 

He didn't necessarily know where he was going, but he was hoping to get there without incident. He hadn't missed what Beelzebub had said about his odds in Hell, and didn't feel like fighting off demons today. It wasn’t like he was incapable of it, healer or not he had done mandatory training, but he didn’t feel like it. 

Azra’s coat was mostly keeping eyes off of him, anyways. It wasn’t until Raphael realized that he had no idea where he was going that he decided he was going to need to talk to a… to a fellow demon. 

Reached out, grabbed the first demon he touched by the collar and shoved him into the wall. “Where do I find Beelzebub?”

Recognition dawned in the demon’s eyes. “You’re Azra's little pet angel! What are you doing down here?” They hissed. 

Raphael grit his teeth, slammed the demon back up against the wall. “I’m asking the questions. If I’m Azra’s little pet angel, you’ll remember that I was an  _ Archangel, _ and I’ve been training to make demons’ lives miserable since before you were created,” he hissed. “Now tell me. Where is Beelzebub?”

Raphael felt his eye teeth grow by about an inch as he hissed at the demon, which was definitely new. Something slid down his arm, smooth and cold, and his staff was in his hand, but not the same staff it had always been. 

His eyes flicked to Crowley. The snake was still there, but gold and black, not gold and white. “You look good in black, Crowley. Feeling hungry?” He asked, contemplating the snake.

“I’m not afraid of your little pet!”

When Crowley lunged with a jaw that unhinged to be bigger than the demon’s head, they flinched. “Stop! I’ll- I- I’ll lead you to zem!”

Raphael grinned. Maybe he was going to do better in this world than he had ever imagined. “Good.”

He had some unfinished business. Not with Beelzebub, but with someone he imagined the Prince of Hell hadn’t let go of as quickly as ze had Raphael. 

So he followed along behind the demon until they had gone deep into the bowels of the dark, dank area Raphael was really not a fan off. “Ze… ze work here.”

“Good. I suppose you don’t say thank you, in Hell, so move on!”

The demon scurried away. 

Raphael rapped on the door. 

It opened after a minute. “What are you doing back here?” Beelzebub demanded.    
“I believe you have my little brother? I need to have a word with him. Family affairs,” Raphael replied. 

“Family affairs?” 

“He is my brother, and surely you must figure there’s a reason we Fell at the same time. We have a  _ lot _ to talk about. So can I see him, or not?”

Beelzebub sighed. “Fine, you can zee him. Gabriel! Get out here! I think your older brother is going to pound you into a wall and I want to watch!”

“I’m the non-violent sibling, sorry to disappoint, Beelzebub.”

Gabriel stepped out the door. 

“You look like shit,” Raphael started, raking his gaze up and down his brother. Clearly, Gabriel had yet to find a change of clothes, or manage to get cleaned up. Blood still caked around his eyes, his suit was torn and stained.

“And who’s fault is that?” Gabriel demanded. 

“I don’t think you like  _ my _ answer to that, Gabriel, because I’m certainly not going to take all the blame. I have a few more facts than you have,” Raphael replied, picking at a fingernail. “Part of this is on me, true, but part of this isn’t.”

Gabriel glared at him. “And what facts could you possibly have that make this not your fault, Raphael?” He snarled. “I promised God that I would bear responsibility with you for your mistakes, if She spared you, and you didn’t change a damn thing!”

“God always wanted me to Fall. When She allowed you to save me, She was just deciding that She was alright with you being collateral damage. I was never going to be good enough.”

“How the Hell do you know that?”

“She came to Azra in a dream. Offered to reboot the last six thousand years and do it  _ properly. _ Properly meant that I Fell, and Azra stayed in Heaven. She never wanted me up there past the Great War, and She didn’t mind it if She had to get rid of you to arrange it. She expected me to fail  _ so _ much sooner than this.”

Gabriel looked outraged. “She- She wouldn’t have-”

“The Almighty really doesn’t care about individuals the way you think She does. So, which one of us gets to explain to Michael?”

“Piss off, Raphael,” Gabriel hissed. “And you can deal with the mess  _ you’ve _ made. I hope Michael smites you.”

“We both know she won’t, I was always her favourite,” Raphael laughed. “She could never harm a hair on my head, even while play fighting. Alright, Beelzebub, that’s all I had to say, you can have him back now for whatever you were doing. I was never really sure I wanted to ask my little brother what was going on between him and the Prince of Hell, and I’m still not sure I want to know.”

Beelzebub actually laughed. “Get out of here before anybody else sees you. Sounds like you have an angel to go talk to.” 

“Sounds that way, doesn’t it? Is there a faster way out? It was a long walk here and I don’t remember the way back.”

Beelzebub directed him to a closer exit, and Raphael gladly got himself out of Hell, just to have to make his way back to the main building and take the escalators  _ up _ this time.    
They hurt his feet, and he stayed at the base of the escalator. He had a feeling it might hurt a  _ lot worse _ if he stepped on Holy Ground. “Here to speak to Michael? Would you send her along?” He asked the angel at the gate pleasantly. 

The angel reached for a sword. Raphael sighed. “I’m not here for any trouble, I just want to talk to my sister. I’ll go back and sit in the waiting room, if it would make you feel better, and you can send her to me, but I assure you that a demon isn’t getting very far in  _ Heaven. _ I really don’t even want to get off this escalator landing.”

The angel seemed to hesitate. Raphael tapped his fingers on the handrail of the escalator. “Isn’t this above your authority, anyways? Don’t you  _ have _ to go get an Archangel? What’s the harm of going to get Michael in  _ particular _ ? I am her little brother, after all, she’ll want to deal with me personally.”

“Fine! I’ll go get Michael. You- you don’t touch anything, demon!”

“Got it,” Raphael said dryly. “I’m planning on standing here until Michael gets here, anyways. I  _ told _ you, I don’t want any trouble. Just need a word with my sister.”

The angel stammered for another moment, and then ran off. 

Raphael leaned against the guardrail. 

Tried not to think about what this place had used to mean to him. 

It took awhile before Michael appeared. “Raphael! You can’t be here!” She snapped. 

“I know. But  _ somebody _ owed you an explanation and in case you haven’t realized, Gabriel isn’t around to give it, so I have to do it.”

“What happened to Gabriel?”

“That’s why we need to go talk.”

“You know that you showed up,  _ armed, _ to Heaven, as a bloody demon! You’re lucky no one threw Holy Water at you!” Michael hissed.

Raphael looked to his hand, and the staff in it. “I actually forgot I had that out. Crowley’s got a mind of his own lately.”

He glared at the snake. “Back you go.” 

The staff disappeared from his hand. Where a gold tattoo used to sit, a black one curled up beneath his ear. “Better? Can we go talk now? Somewhere other than here? The ground is giving me pins and needles in my bloody feet. I’m not really supposed to be here, as you pointed out.”

“Alright, get down the escalator.” 

Michael shot the angel at the gate a steely look. “Not a word of this to anyone.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She stepped onto the escalator, Raphael just seconds ahead of her.

The pins and needles vanished when they got back to Earth. 

“What  _ happened?” _

It was hard to tell how she was feeling from her words. She sounded angry and devastated and about two seconds from crying all at the same time.

Michael’s voice shook the hardened bravado right out of Raphael. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croak before he fell to the ground, tears burning his eyes. He buried his face in his hands, sobbed.

Michael was beside him in seconds. 

“I’m sorry, Michael… I… I just couldn’t… Not anymore,” he murmured, “I  _ never _ believed in that  _ fucking _ plan, and I couldn’t pretend anymore. But I didn't want to leave you.”

Even after everything, Raphael knew that was true. He had always seen Michael as someone he could turn to, someone he loved and trusted and didn't want to disappoint.

Michael didn’t say anything, but she placed a hand on his back. It was more sympathy than he had expected from an Archangel. Technically, he should be afraid of Michael’s hand, given Archangels were more supposed to cut demon’s wings off than sit with them while they were crying, but Raphael didn't flinch as she ran her hand along his spine.

“Will you tell me what happened to Gabriel, brother? Why can’t we find him?” She asked softly. "You said you knew."

Raphael nodded. “He put himself up as collateral damage, the time I almost Fell. Told God to judge my sins against both of us, and if they ever got too bad- If I ever failed again- it would cost both of us."

He broke off after that. Even after everything he had been through, all the anger he had for Gabriel, the weight of what he had done was still almost enough to crush him. "She shouldn't have said yes. She should have just let me Fall six thousand years ago," Raphael spat vehemently. "I did  _ everything  _ I could not to fail him, not to let him down but- you can’t find him because Beelzebub has him busy right now. I stopped to ask him if he wanted to tell you or if I should before I went to get you.”

Michael leapt to her feet. “So both of you?" She gasped. "I've lost  _ both of you.  _ Because you couldn't follow some damned orders! Risking your own fate is one thing but- both of you!"

Raphael nodded, stayed on the ground. He didn't look up at his sister. “Both of us.”

Michael didn’t say anything for a long time. Raphael honestly thought she had left. 

But she didn’t leave. “As far as anyone is concerned, none of this ever happened, got it? This is the last time we get to be like this. The last time that-”

“That we get to be siblings," Raphael finished for her. "After this we're just an angel and a demon."

Michael nodded. She crouched down beside him, placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Raphael shook his head. “But I have Azra to look after me. Gabriel is in much more trouble. I would help if I could but he won’t let me.”

“I can’t blame him.”

Raphael sighed. “I was always going to Fall. God offered to swap Azra and I after the war. She took Gabriel’s deal knowing it only meant we both would Fall.”

“You know I can’t believe that, little brother," Michael said sadly. "You've lost your faith but I still have mine."

“I know. I envy you for it. I didn't want this."

Michael seemed to consider how to ask the next question. "How are your wings? I won't ask you to let me see them, I know you won't. I wouldn't trust them to me either, siblings or not."

“Azra says I’ll fly again. There’s really not much else I can ask for in the way of wings," Raphael said softly. "There's one set that will heal properly. The… the other two are gone. Better off that way."

"Oh, little brother," Michael breathed, pulled him into an embrace. "I'm so sorry, little brother, I should have protected you…" 

Raphael shook his head, just a little. "You did all you could. Michael, none of this is on you. If when I leave you decide to blame me and use that to fuel the hatred you have to have towards me, then do it, just don't you ever blame yourself." 

"I'm never going to hate you. I'm not Lucifer, I don't go back on my promises. I swore to be your sister, and to love you, and I'm going to."

Raphael choked on his reply, realized he didn't have anything he could say that wouldn't just be repeating her, and she already knew. "I don't want us to be enemies."

"I don't either, Raphael, but we haven't been given the choice."

"I know. You- you were the best sister I could have ever had. Could have ever prayed for, Michael. I won't forget it."

Michael sniffed and hugged him closer. 

“I have to go back.”

Raphael nodded. 

“Look after yourself, brother.”

“You too, sister. I’ll miss you.”

They parted ways. 

Raphael made it out to the Bentley before breaking down completely. 

Azra could tell from the moment Raphael walked into the restaurant that they weren’t staying. The tear streaks down the demon’s face were obvious, and he was walking as though he was injured, even though he visibly wasn’t.

Azra jumped up from the table where he was sitting and rushed to Raphael, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and spun him around. “We’ll go out another time, dear,” he said gently. “I don’t know what you were doing, but you look exhausted and worn to the bone. Let’s just go home.”

Raphael nodded. 

“I’ll drive, dear, you just sit and relax.”

Raphael nodded again. Azra led him out to the car, settled him into the passenger’s seat. 

Azra climbed into the driver’s seat and got moving. 

He didn’t speak on the way home, he didn’t think that Raphael wanted to. 

“I’m sure you’re dying to ask what I did.”

“You’re home alive and in one piece. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to tell me,” Azra said easily. “You didn’t give up your right to privacy. If you want to tell me, then you can, but I don’t need you to do it.”

Raphael nodded. 

“I spoke to Michael.”

Azra nodded. “How did that go?”

“I had to tell her what happened. She… took it well.”

Azra nodded. "So you had to say goodbye," he realized. 

Raphael nodded. "I  _ know  _ Heaven has wronged us but- but she was my  _ sister _ , she taught me to fly and create and- and- she was always  _ there. _ Even after I was banished to Earth. She never doubted me for a second and I let her down, Azra. She raised me better than this." 

"You've done the best you could, love. You haven't let her down. You're perfect in every way that counts, in every way that you can be," Azra assured him, squeezed his hand. 

Raphael didn’t say anything. 

Azra turned his full attention back to bringing them home. Raphael was the one with a lead foot, but Azra could  _ drive  _ when he wanted to. 

"What would you say to some wine, dear?" He asked as they walked into the cottage. "We can put on that show you like, just sit and relax. You've had a long day." 

"Wine would be lovely," Raphael sighed, "you only know the half of it. I went and saw Gabriel, too." 

Azra needed a minute to piece that together. He pulled out the wine glasses, was puzzling over wine when it clicked. "Raphael, you went to  _ Hell?"  _ He demanded. 

"Where else am I going to find Gabriel, Azra? If I Fall, so does he. I can be quite threatening when I want to be, I didn't have any trouble getting to him. And Crowley is black now, not sure how he feels about that but turns out he likes threatening to eat demons-"

"You  _ heard  _ what Beelzebub said, didn't you? Ze wasn't kidding! Any demon would-"

"Take a piece out of me, if I let them," Raphael replied. "But I didn't. I'm not helpless, I've been dealing with bullies since bullies became a thing. Remember? My brother is _ Lucifer _ himself. He was sort of the original bully. And he started taking it out on  _ me. _ I can handle myself, Azra. The only reason I couldn't that first day was because I was in  _ pieces.  _ I don't need you to protect me all the time, Azra." 

"But why wouldn't you tell me so that I could go with you?" Azra asked. 

"It was a family affair, Azra, I figured you would stop me and I needed to do this," Raphael said simply. "I needed to talk to Gabriel. I don't expect you to understand it, but I do expect you to accept it. They're my siblings and I needed to talk to them. Alone."

Azra sighed and finally picked a bottle of wine. "I wish you hadn't gone alone. I wish you had  _ told me _ where you were going! I worry about you, Raphael!" 

"I know. But this is… this is life now, for the rest of  _ forever _ . You can't protect me from it forever." 

"I could have protected you from this! Surely you understand how- how foolish it was for you to go alone, without telling anyone!" 

"Nothing happened, Azra! I'm completely fine!" Raphael snapped. "Look, I don't want to fight with you right now. Let's not talk about this right now, you go pick a book, I'll get ready for bed, we can talk about this in the morning, alright?" 

"It's barely eight o'clock, you're going to go to bed?" 

"It's been a long day, Azra. Besides, I smell like brimstone and sulphur. I want to take a shower," Raphael said simply. "Or I could take the wine you offered and make it a bath." 

Azra supposed he had a point. Finished pouring the wine and handed him a glass. 

Raphael kissed his cheek and walked into the bathroom. "I love you, Azra, and I don't want to get into this right now, I don't want to end the night angry."

"I love you too, Raphael. We'll talk when you're ready, dear." Azra went and picked out a book, settled down on the couch with his glass of wine. 

He didn't want to fight, either. But he couldn't believe that two days into Falling Raphael would run around Hell like he owned the place. 

But it wasn't the time to think about that. Azra flipped open his book and started reading. 

It wasn't until he was done the book and realized he hadn't heard the water running yet that he thought there might be a problem. Despite the fact that Raphael had made it clear that he didn't want to be disturbed, Azra could only sit still for a few more minutes before he walked to the bathroom, knocked softly, heard fluttering from inside but no one told him to go away, so he opened the door. 

There were feathers  _ everywhere. _ Clogging the drain of the sink, scattered across the floor, filling the tub, covering the counter. 

It made Azra not want to look up at Raphael. 

But he did anyways, taking in patchy, singed wings and Raphael, sitting on the edge of the counter, mercilessly tugging out every feather that was remotely damaged. 

“Get out,” he said instantly, golden eyes snapping up to glare at Azra. “You’re supposed to be reading a book and leaving me be.”

“I finished the book and didn’t hear any water running. Can I help you? Your hands are shaking, you’re hurting yourself, dear. I’ll be gentler-”

“No,” Raphael replied, grabbing onto another burnt feather and tugging until it snapped away. He hissed a little with the pain, but didn’t otherwise react beyond the fact that his hands were shaking  _ hard _ and he couldn’t stop them. He dropped the feather to the ground and continued scouring his wings for more offending feathers. 

Azra decided not to be offended by Raphael’s brusque tone and quick rejection. “Just… don’t hurt yourself worse, okay love? Leave the ones that aren’t burned to come loose naturally.”

Raphael nodded. 

It wasn’t as though Azra hadn’t done something similar, as if he hadn’t pulled every burned feather from his wings, and later, when new pin feathers had grown in and black plumage replaced the white, he had pulled away the remainder of the white, whether the feathers were healthy or not.

It was simply  _ different _ to watch someone he loved and cared about do it to himself. Remembered how much it had  _ hurt, _ not only physically but in every way he had known possible and a few that he hadn’t.

He sighed. “Come to bed when you’re done, dear?” Azra said gently. “Only if you want to, but even if we’re not going to talk, I would like to know you’re here and safe.”

Raphael didn’t respond. Azra left the bathroom and walked into their bedroom, picked another book and sat down on the bed. 

It was hours before a haggard Raphael joined him. He didn’t say anything, just curled up beside him in the bed and went to sleep.

Azra sighed and watched over him in concern.


	4. The Gambler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But like the night you took my hand beside the fire
> 
> Thirty years ago to this day
> 
> You swore you'd be here 'til we decide that it's our time
> 
> Well it's not time, you've never quit in all your life
> 
> So just take my hand, you know that I will never leave your side
> 
> You're the love of my life, you know that I will never leave your side
> 
> \- fun. The Gambler

“I have an idea, darling,” Azra said the moment Raphael opened her eyes in the morning. 

“Weren’t we going to talk, Azra?” Raphael asked blearily, sitting up and stretching. 

She didn’t stretch her wings. They hurt badly enough without opening them.

“We will, but I’ve got an idea I would like to put into motion first. Would you let me make a phone call?”

“Course,” Raphael agreed.

Azra smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Do you need anything? I hate to ask, but are your wings okay?”

“My wings will survive, Azra. It’s not the first time they’ve been a little… over plucked. I have three younger siblings, even though I never met one of them, and let me tell you what younger siblings  _ love  _ to do. They love to grab onto things they shouldn't, and  _ pull. _ I’ve lost more than a couple feathers to Gabriel and Uriel," Raphael assured him, "and I don't need anything." 

Azra nodded, and stepped out of the room.

Raphael fought the urge to eavesdrop. She figured Azra would tell her if it was important to her, but it didn't mean she wasn't curious to know what he had to wake up first thing in the morning and call about. 

Then again, Azra didn't sleep. Perhaps it wasn't so important after all.

Raphael settled back into bed and closed her eyes again. She wouldn’t say no to sleeping in, if Azra had stuff to do before they talked. 

Just so long as they  _ did _ talk.

Raphael wasn’t sure how long she was asleep before Azra came back into their bedroom, settled onto the bed beside her and handed her a glass of water. “You have to hydrate once in a while,” he said gently. 

Raphael groaned and gulped down half the glass, knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it until she did. “Alright, happy?” She asked, and set the glass to the side. 

“You don’t need my approval, dear. However, that being said, I know you’re expecting me to apologize for what I said last night, and I’m afraid I’m not going to,” Azra admitted. 

“We’re off to a great start,” Raphael huffed, leaned back against the headboard. “Good talk.”

“Alright, first of all, I’m not the only reason we need to talk, you also went off a bit. Second, I’m not going to apologize for being upset that you think you can just do whatever you want and not tell me. We’re partners and that’s not how it works. Not to mention, Raphael, you’ve been a demon for a couple of days. I know you’re not helpless, I’m well aware that even if you mostly refuse to do so, you’re more than capable of wielding a weapon, and that Crowley would gladly devour a couple of demons, even if they gave him indigestion. But I have  _ six thousand _ years of experience dealing with Hell. If this were a matter with Heaven, of course I would defer to what you said. You went to Heaven, too, and I don’t have anything to say about that, because you know Heaven better than I do. But this is  _ my _ area of expertise. And I’m not saying you had to bring me with you, Raphael, but you should have  _ told _ me where you were. I’ve been held in Hell, before, and humans have  _ no idea _ what they’re saying when they say they’ve been through Hell. They haven’t. I  _ have _ been through Hell, after the little incident in Paris. It’s why I came back to you looking for Holy Water. I was  _ not  _ going to go through it again. I don’t want you to find out what that’s like.”

Raphael didn’t say anything. Azra sighed, placed a hand on her knee. 

“It was family business,” she murmured, after a great pause. “You would have tried to stop me.”

“You don’t know that. Raphael, most of all, I want to know where you  _ are. _ What if you hadn’t scared the demon you ran into? What if you had never made it to Beelzebub, or back out of Hell? I wouldn’t know where to look for you! If you had never shown up for dinner, I never would have  _ considered _ that you had gone to Hell. You would have been down there for far too long just because I didn’t know where to look for you!” Azra explained. 

Raphael looked down, bit her lip. 

“I know there’s a reason you didn’t tell me where you went or what you were doing, and I do understand that you have the right to privacy. Trust me, I know that I didn’t handle it well, either. So in the future, would you just let me know before you go down there, dear? You don’t have to tell me why you’re going, and I won’t try to stop you, I would just like to know where you’re going and when you should be back. Because I will  _ gladly _ storm Hell for you, but I need to know that’s where you are before I can do that.”

“I wasn’t thinking of it that way,” Raphael sighed. “I just… needed to talk to Gabriel, needed to get some of the  _ guilt _ off my chest and make sure that Michael would know what happened and I knew it was dangerous but- I’m sorry, Azra. You’re right, I don’t know enough about Hell to march down there without telling you. I should have told you where I was going.”

Azra gave her a hug. “I’m sorry too, Raphael. I should have explained that to you last night instead of just being irritable and angry. I couldn’t put it to words then, but that doesn’t give me right to yell at you. We’re going to learn through this together, alright?” 

Raphael nodded. 

“Now, I have a proposition for you.”

“I do too, and I betcha mine’s more fun,” Raphael gave him a smirk. “Let’s save the learning for after breakfast, and breakfast for after something else.”

“So this was what you were setting up this morning?” Raphael asked, looking around skeptically. She stuck her hands in her armpits to keep her fingers warm. “You literally just finished giving me shit for coming here and now you have a job opportunity? Who says I even  _ want _ a job?”

Raphael hadn’t stolen Azra’s leather jacket this time, and looked like she regretted it, with just a pink pullover with a gold snake on it and jeans that she had reluctantly turned black so that the grime of Hell couldn’t stain them. She had accidentally left her glasses in the car, but Azra didn’t think it would hurt not to have them.

Not in Hell. “I think you’re going to like this job, Raphael, if I can convince Beelzebub to give it to you. Now please, stop complaining, put your hands in your pockets so that you look less ridiculous, and settle down a bit.”

Raphael sighed and moved her hands into her pockets. Didn’t slouch against the wall like she normally would, probably because she liked her pullover and the wall didn’t look like it would be particularly kind to the pale pink colour.

Eventually, the door opened. 

Beelzebub sighed. “You’re early. What kind of demon iz early?” Ze asked, beckoning the both of them inside.

“Sorry, Lord Beelzebub, took me less time to drag her out of bed than I thought it would.”

“Who dragged  _ who _ out of bed?” Raphael asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Because I seem to remember you telling me I had to pull you up because your legs were all jellified, so…”

“How have you two become  _ more _ inzufferable zince you both fell under my rezponzibility?” Beelzebub complained. “At leazt before you Fell, you were zomeone else’z problem, Raphael.”

“Well, now we’re both yours,” Azra said with a smile. “Anyways, have you given my idea any thought?”

“You were pretty vague, Azra.”

“You were, even I’m not sure what job you’re trying to get me,” Raphael agreed. 

Azra sighed. “Well, I was just thinking, Gabriel was Hell’s bureaucratic connection in Heaven, wasn’t he?” He asked. 

“Yez. We eztablished that on the phone.”

“And since he’s down here with us now, either you’re going to keep the job and have to make nice with another angel, or you could send one of the two former Archangels you just gained to do it. They both have connections…  _ upstairs, _ and they’ll probably be able to maintain better bureaucratic communication with whichever Archangel gets told to take over for Gabriel, since they’re siblings. Now, Gabriel has the experience in this domain, but I’m giving you a chance to make it stop looking like Hell has no control over us. If Raphael agrees, I think you should assign the position to her. Then she has a task, and is following Hell’s instructions, which looks better on you, and if there’s one or two perks for her… well, you can pretend you hadn’t thought of them.”

“And what are you going to do, Azra?” 

“Raphael’s a newly Fallen demon, she can’t be placed in charge of  _ all _ of Hell’s bureaucratic connections all on her own. I’ll…  _ supervise. _ Realistically, I’m not going to do anything, but then we both have jobs. I’ll even throw in a temptation or two, really sell the act, provided you say yes.”

“Azra, there’s two Archangels who would gladly stab me with Holy Blades before they deal with Heavenly and Hellish bureaucracy with me. Pretty sure that now, that would have a similar effect as Lucifer’s blade at the airbase.” 

“Well, that’s why I was thinking that if Heaven finds out  _ you’re  _ Hell’s representative, then Michael will just have to make sure she’s Heaven’s. And say, weren’t you just lamenting the fact that you weren’t going to get to talk to her anymore? Sounds like this is a win-win.”

“Zo, I’m suppozed to let the former Archangel wander around, chatting up angelz as she pleasez, and pretend I don’t know that thiz is benefiting her.”

Raphael cleared her throat. “You would also… be sending me directly back into the world that I’ve just been, er,  _ painfully _ informed I’m no longer a part of. Talk open poking at an open wound. And I should know about wounds. I  _ am _ a Healer, after all.”

“You’re not a healer down here, Raphael.” 

“Maybe not, but I could be. Hell didn’t get many of my healers in the Great War. You could probably use someone with a bit of experience to take that title. Hence, I think I can continue knowing a lot about wounds, and applying that knowledge.” 

Beelzebub looked at Azra. “Have you even convinzed her to perform a miracle yet? Does she know  _ anything _ about the new domain she’z a part of?” 

“I actually had to convince her that she  _ shouldn’t _ try a miracle yet, given the… pardon the phrase, Hell she was going through. I’m sure she’ll take to demonic power just as well as she did angelic. I daresay our only example of a Fallen Archangel did,” Azra pointed out, “given that he’s sort of the King of Hell now.”

Beelzebub sighed. “I suppoze you have a point, Azra. Fine, if Raphael agreez, then I’ll place her in charge of bureaucratic affairz. But she’z not reporting to you, Azra. That’s too easy. She’ll report directly to  _ me _ . You can keep your promize of performing a couple temptationz here and there and remain Hell’s Earth Agent to prevent a riot over your dizobedience.”

Raphael nodded solemnly. “I’ll even pretend to hate the position if I run into other demons on the way down.”

“You won’t, because you’ll be taking the direct entranze to settle your guardian’z nerves about you being down here. At least for the firzt few hundred yearz.” Beelzebub shot Azra a look, who just smiled. 

“You can’t  _ blame _ me for being concerned. Hell hasn’t seen a fresh Fall in  _ ages _ , not to mention who she was and what part she played in Armageddon. Besides, I don’t think you want to deal with demons being eaten by a giant snake, and that’s what’s in store for them if they mess with Raphael.”

“Which snake I guess would depend on how hungry I am,” Raphael mused, “and how much I feel like a nap. Snakes sleep after big meals. But it is true, they probably would get eaten. And I’m really not sure if that would only discorporate them or if it would destroy them. If Crowley did it, they’d probably be gone. He’s sort of used to destroying demons.”

“Crowley?”

“Raphael named the serpent on the staff she was given by God. And she still has it, and I really think you’ll be prying it out of her cold, dead hands if you want her to give it up.” 

“It’s barely the same staff. And Crowley’s all  _ black _ now. He looks very smart like that.”

Beelzebub just groaned. “Just get  _ out.  _ Both of you, out. I’ll send communication to Heaven that you’re the bureaucratic reprezentative and they should appoint a new one, and you’ll report to me once a month, Raphael. Try not to sound like you’re enjoying chatting with your sizter when you do it?”

“Got it.”   
Raphael and Azra stepped out of the room. “So? Was I right? I thought of a good job for you?”

“Yes you did, but someday you  _ will _ learn that I really prefer that you tell me your plans in advance, not set everything up behind my back and jump me with it later when it’s all arranged,” Raphael tutted, and Azra shot her an apologetic smile. 

“I didn’t really want to get your hopes up in case ze said no,” Azra explained. 

“Why do you always have a good excuse when you do something that annoys me, Azra?” Raphael asked fondly. 

“It’s a carefully acquired skill.”

"I want to try to do a miracle,” Raphael said suddenly. 

It had been two weeks since they had ventured to Hell. Azra was sitting behind them, gently crumbling casing off of the pin feathers on their wings that had quickly grown in to replace the burned and singed feathers. There was still some of the sapphire blue left, looking ratty and worse-for-wear, but when Azra had given one a gentle tug Raphael had flinched, so he had decided they would stay until they were good and ready to come out. 

At the moment, Azra couldn’t tell if the new feathers were blue or black. He wasn’t working with great lighting, just a lamp on the bedside table, and compared to the white casings that had covered the feathers, they just seemed dark. 

Raphael had been complaining of them itching, and Azra had convinced them to let him deal with them instead of doing it themselves this time. He didn’t want a repeat of whatever had happened in the bathroom, and he was pretty sure if Raphael had done it themselves, the remaining sapphire feathers would be on the ground, no matter how much it hurt them to do it.

There was still a patch or two where no feathers were growing, the flesh where they would grow was burned and still healing. Raphael still winced when fingers brushed them, and Azra made sure to leave them alone.

The first time he had seen them, he had tried to heal them with a miracle, but it truly hadn’t done much. “They’re coming in very nice,” Azra remarked, not responding to Raphael’s miracle comment. “Much nicer than mine, I’m due for a molt any month now.”

Raphael turned to look at Azra, who had another pin feather between his fingers and gently worked the case off. “You’ll have to let me help with that, then.”

“Of course. Now careful, you still have blood feathers back here, and you don’t want to twist and make me hit one of those, they’re sensitive.”

“I know how blood feathers work, Azra. This isn’t my first molt,” Raphael pointed out. 

Azra smiled at them. “I know, dear, I’m just still worried about you,” he admitted. “You’ve been handling this remarkably well and I’m afraid it’s making me more concerned.”

“Remarkably well is relative when the bathroom door locks and you don’t miracle it open, Azra,” Raphael pointed out. 

“I’m not going to start disrespecting your privacy  _ now. _ Speaking of my insisting on breaching your privacy, have you arranged a meeting with Michael yet? You’re supposed to report back to Beelzebub in two weeks,” Azra mentioned. 

“I called the other day, got Uriel on the line so I imagine it will be a few more days until I hear from Michael. Uriel was about ready to jump through the phone lines to slaughter me,” Raphael replied. “She always was hot-headed. If it makes you feel better, you can escort me back to Hell for the first few times, until I know the way.”

Azra smiled, crumbled away the casing on a long covert. “You’ll be able to try flying soon, if you’re interested. Most of your flight feathers are back in, at least on the outside. I haven’t looked at the inside yet.”

Raphael glanced at the inside of their wing. “Looks pretty grown in on this side,” they remarked, straightening an old blue feather. “Still all covered up, and you’re being quite insistent that I don’t clean them up myself-”

“You can clean them up yourself, if you’re not going to hurt yourself. Leave the old blue and the blood feathers alone.”

“I’m not going to pluck at a blood feather, I’m not an idiot. I need those to finish growing in if I don’t want to look like a plucked bird for the rest of eternity,” Raphael complained, set about getting the white casings off their fresh feathers on the inside of their wings while Azra continued on the outside. “Did you miss the first thing I said?”

“Hm? Oh, about trying a miracle? I think that’s a wonderful idea, if you’re up to it. What do you want to try?” Azra asked. “Something small would probably be easier for you to start with, give you a little bit of time to get used to how it feels before you go changing the weather or healing the blind.”

“I’m not really sure what I want to try, I’m just sick of not doing any. Do you know how many times I’ve drank cold tea in the last two weeks because you were busy and we don’t have any human way to heat it back up?” Raphael asked. 

“Well, maybe that could be your first miracle. I’m willing to bet that the tea I brought you earlier isn’t hot anymore,” Azra suggested. “And I think the backs are all clean, for now. We’ll have to go back over them in a few days when the rest of the blood feathers are ready, but they look much nicer now. Have you got the insides handled?”

“You can do the left one if you’re bored, I’ve got a lot of stuff to get off this one,” Raphael replied. “Ow!” 

Azra flinched, Raphael just sighed. “I grabbed the wrong feather, don’t worry.”

Azra nodded and went and sat at a different angle so he could see the inside of Raphael’s left wing, and begin working on the white casings that covered many of their feathers. “Did you want to try right now? Is something making you hesitate?”

“You said it was different.  _ How _ different?” Raphael asked, brushing down a primary and settling it into place with the rest that were in. 

“It’s hard to put to words. Your power comes from a different place now, first of all. From down below,” Azra replied. “You’ve always pulled power down to you, know you have to pull it  _ up.” _

Raphael nodded. “Shame you can’t do this part with miracles,” they remarked, freeing a covert. “Would take less time, that’s for sure. Would also itch less.”

Azra laughed. “But then I’d have no excuse to groom your wings, dear.”

“Don’t need an excuse, just need to ask,” Raphael murmured. 

Azra smiled and ran a gentle hand down soft feathers, carefully avoiding a patch of scorched flesh on his way down. “Can you tell what colour they are?” He asked, looking up at Raphael. 

“They look pretty black.” 

“I keep thinking they’re blue, but maybe that’s just the old colour around them.”

“Blue would be nice,” Raphael admitted, “I’ve got nothing against black, but they always have been blue.”

“Oh, you won’t offend me by admitting that you don’t want black wings. I didn’t want black wings either! Besides, they would really clash with how you like to dress. Since you haven’t really changed the colours besides when you’re in Hell and they’ll get dirty, I’m assuming the white and pink was never about Heaven and you just liked those colours. Black would clash terribly with white.”

“And navy blue won’t?” Raphael laughed. 

“Technically, pink and blue compliment each other, so at least you have that if they’re blue,” Azra pointed out.

“I suppose I will,” Raphael agreed. 

“So, what miracle do you want to do?” Azra asked. “Anything you’ve really been missing lately?”

Raphael considered it. “There’s a scuff on the Bentley I’ve been meaning to get rid of,” they mentioned. “I still think it was you who bumped it into the curb,” they continued. 

“Well, shall we head outside and take care of that?” 

Raphael hesitated. “What if I can’t. Or, what if it does exactly what miracles  _ used _ to do?” 

Azra sighed, wrapped an arm around their shoulders. “You will be able to, if not today then later. And if it hurts you, then we’ll work around that. You’ve healed before, and we’ll make sure you can heal again.” 

Raphael nodded, took a deep breath, and slid off the bed to head outside. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Azra offered. 

They nodded. 

Azra stood and walked slowly behind Raphael, letting them set the pace as they walked out the door of the cottage and into the small garage they kept the Bentley in. 

Opened up the door, stepped inside, placed a hand against the scuffed fender and looked up at Azra. 

“Take a deep breath, and when you’re ready, it’s the same as you’ve always done, but you have to pull the power  _ up _ to you. It’s going to feel different, but it works the exact same way.”

Raphael nodded, took another deep breath, closed their eyes and snapped their fingers. 

Immediately recoiled their hand from the fender and lurched backwards, even as the scuff disappeared. Azra rushed over to them.

“It’s alright to be startled, dear. It is very different.” 

“Am I bleeding?” Raphael asked, looking hesitantly up at Azra. “It feels like I’m bleeding.” 

Azra contemplated them, wiped a bit of blood from beneath their eye. “Just a little. How do you feel?” 

“I can’t explain it. My hand feels… odd.” 

Raphael stretched their fingers in and out, staring at the hand that had been against the Bentley. 

“That might be true for a while, dear. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll get used to it. I haven’t got a choice to get used to it, have I? This is what I’m stuck with, whether I like it or not. Sorry, that sounded rude-” 

“Raphael, I can appreciate that you love and respect me and the fact that I’m a demon and still hear about how you didn’t want to be one yourself. It’s alright. Please, stop apologizing for everything you say against being a demon, I understand that it’s not directed at me,” Azra promised, placing a hand on their shoulder. “Honest, the only time I consider what implications it could have against me is when you stop and apologize. No one  _ wanted _ to be a demon, I don’t expect you to act like you’re thrilled at the prospect.”

Raphael sighed, leaned their head against Azra’s shoulder. “You’re wonderful, you know? Putting up with looking after me all the time, don’t say anything I know you’re fine with it but I also know that I have been a pain to look after-”    
“Raphael, I want you to have all the support that I didn’t after the Fall. You’ll get all the looking after you need and more, to the point that you’ll probably tell me off for smothering you several times.”

“I appreciate it, even if I do snap at you after the third time,” Raphael laughed. 

“I know you do, darling.”

  
  
  



End file.
